


Red Ribbon

by Sosowatup



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Androids, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I call RK900 Conan, Investigations, M/M, Mystery, Panic Attacks, Police, Post-Game(s), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, gavin being gavin, other sex stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-23 00:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sosowatup/pseuds/Sosowatup
Summary: The revolution is over, the protests have ceased and androids are free. A year after the incident, Detective Gavin Reed has found himself a new partner, RK900, aka. Conan.Frustrated at the forced partnership Reed is determined to show the android how much he doesn't want him there. However, their attention is forced elsewhere when 12 androids go missing in the space of 5 weeks with no witnesses and no leads, and only one thing linking all the cases together. The two new partners now have to work together to solve the infamous Red Ribbon case. And they have to do so without killing each other along the way.





	1. New Partner

Connor was in Captain Fowler’s office. No, it wasn’t Connor in the captain’s office, it was some Android who looked almost exactly _like_ Connor. Gavin Reed had been watching their exchange through the glass walls from the comfort of his desk for about 20 minutes now. He checked his watch.

_30 minutes._

He didn’t care if people caught him staring, because he was fucking confused. What was a Connor look alike doing in the DPD?

“Stare any harder and you’ll burn a fucking hole in the glass.” Gavin heard Hank call from his desk. Reed glowered at the man who was reclining back in his chair, arms crossed, staring at him with a smirk playing at his lips. It was as if he knew something Gavin didn’t, and Gavin had no doubt that was the case.

“Is something wrong, Detective?” Connor injected from where he sat opposite Hank. Gavin huffed at the two of them, ignored Connor’s question, and turned his attention back to Fowler’s office.

He nearly fell out of his chair when he saw the new android and Fowler looking directly at him. He took a second to compose himself and cocked a brow at the captain, who gestured for him to come into the office with a wave of his hand.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

This was not looking good. Gavin had been a detective long enough to know when there were red flags, and everything about this situation was screaming big fucking red flags.

He pushed himself up from his desk and strolled casually into the office, he felt Hank’s eyes burning the back of his skull the whole way. Once inside, he cleared his throat, not daring to make eye contact with the new android, and directed his attention towards the captain.

“You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes I did Detective Reed,” the captain gestured towards the android, “Reed meet RK900, a.k.a Conan.”

 _Oh no_.

“He will be-”

_Don’t say it._

“- your new partner from now on.”

_God fucking damn it._

Reed slammed his hands down on Fowler’s desk, who didn’t seem surprised by the sudden outburst at all. “With all due respect captain,” Reed took a deep breath and leaned in, “ _are you out of your fucking mind?_ ”

Fowler rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples. “Listen Gavin,” he said, his voice sounding almost sympathetic… it pissed Gavin off more. “I understand that you don’t like having a partner, but this isn’t my decision. The Chief came to me this morning with Conan, turned deviant by Connor in CyberLife tower, and he mentioned you by name.” To emphasise his point, Fowler pointed a finger between Gavin’s eyes. “If you have a problem with it, go take it up with the Chief himself. But for now, go show Conan his new work station.” Fowler turned to his monitor signalling the end of the conversation. Any argument Reed could have come up with in that moment would fall on deaf ears, so he instead decided to glare as intensely as he could at Fowler's bald head.

“Thank you, Captain.” The RK900 said finally, its modulated tone cutting through the tense silence. Gavin was almost unsettled by how similar it resembled Connor’s own voice when they first met, empty and dead but somehow was still pleasant. Gavin also took note on how this android’s voice sounded deeper than its older model, and that only fuelled the unease Gavin felt in the pit of his stomach. The fact that the thing was taller than Connor was didn’t help at all.

Gavin sneered at Fowler one last time before turning on his heels and storming out of the office. He registered Hank laughing as he made his way back to his desk and flipped him off. He was also consciously aware of the android at his heels, and as he slumped in his chair he crossed his arms tight and glared up at it. It stood next to his desk, looming over him, its Nordic blue eyes darting back and forth to items scattered all over Gavin’s desk, its LED spinning yellow. After a second it made eye contact with Gavin, its face deadpan.

“The fuck you looking at?” Reed snapped, he tried to make the words sound as venomous as he could. If he was going to work with this thing, he wanted it to know how much he didn’t want it around.

The android smiled at him, it was a professional gesture, it looked like how a doctor would smile at a patient and that made Gavin even more uncomfortable.

“Detective Reed, my name is Conan; I look forward to working with you.” It extended its hand and Gavin slapped it away instantly.

“Just sit the fuck down and get to work. You got your freedom now stop using it to annoy me.” Reed spat, the android blinked in surprise but other than that its face showed no reaction to the attack, it gave a curt nod and put itself at the desk opposite Gavin. It sat awkwardly, its hands placed on its knees, back straight, staring at its monitor. Gavin tried to focus on his own monitor but found his eyes drifting onto the android. It was just sitting there, its LED flashing yellow.

As if it could read his thoughts, it locked eyes with him and raised a brow.

“What?” Gavin asked. It stared at him and tilted its head, like how a cat would when it saw something it didn't understand.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Detective?” It asked, though it was a question of concern, the android sounded bored.

 _Understatement of the fucking century_ , but Gavin didn’t say that.

“Are you actually going to do any work?” Gavin asked instead.

“I _am_ doing work detective. I don’t need to touch my monitor as you would, I am hooked remotely.” To prove its point, the android turned its monitor screen, revealing it to be covered in open tabs of case files. Gavin narrowed his eyes at the screen then at the android.

“Right, I forgot how fucking freaky you androids are.” Gavin was intending for that to be an insult, but the android either didn’t realise or just ignored it.

“I understand that we can be unsettling at times to humans.” It agreed. Gavin rolled his eyes, this android was a tight ass, and Gavin could guarantee it would drive him up the walls in less than a day.

The RK900 remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking again, “Can I get you a coffee, Detective?” Gavin looked up at it.

“What?”

“A coffee,” the RK900 looked at the empty coffee cup on Gavin’s desk. “You finished your other one, and the cup has been cold for quite some time, so would you like me to get you some more coffee?”

“Fuck you.” Was all Gavin said. The android nodded and stood. “Where the fuck are you going?” Gavin yelled at it as it walked away, but the android didn’t reply, so Gavin scoffed at it.

A minute later it returned with a coffee cup and held it out to Gavin.

“How did you get ‘ _yes please, I’d like some coffee_ ’ from ‘ _fuck you_ ’?” Gavin asked. The android shrugged and placed the cup down on Gavin’s desk.

“Well if your _‘fuck you’_ turns into a _‘yes please, I’d like some coffee’_ there it is.” The android offered. It sat back down at its desk. Begrudgingly, Gavin took a sip from the cup. When the android spoke again, Gavin had nearly finished his new coffee.

“Why didn’t you want a partner, Detective?” the android asked. Gavin glared at him.

“How about you mind your own fucking business.”

The android reacted to the hostility with a raised brow, “Now, now Detective, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Well fucking don’t.”

“Do you have to say ‘ _fucking_ ’ in all of your sentences?”

Gavin replied to that with a long, dragged out _“Fuck you.”_ and continued to tap furiously on his keyboard.

* * *

 

After the coffee was long finished the android perked up, “We’ve got a case.”

Gavin sighed and pushed back into his seat. “Fucking finally! It’s only been 2 fucking hours.”

As he spoke, a case file appeared on his monitor and a frown embedded itself on his face as he stared at it. “The Red Ribbon case?” he leaned in closer to the monitor, scrolling through the case details.

It all made sense then, why he had been assigned an android, and why he’d had a surprising decrease in cases assigned to him recently. They were putting him on _this_ massive shit show of an investigation. Twelve androids missing in the space of 5 weeks. No witnesses, no evidence, and one link between all of them. _The red fucking ribbon case._

“You’ve got to be fucking _shitting me_.” Gavin scowled.

“I’m afraid not, Detective. Fowler has assigned it to us specifically. He has requested we try to deal with it quickly. I have reason to believe the Federal Bureau of Investigation will become involved if the situation escalates further.”

“FBI you fucker, just say FBI like any other damn person.” Gavin shot at the android. It stared at him and continued.

“The _FBI_ will become involved, so I suggest we try to solve this case as soon as possible.”

Gavin nodded, still staring at the screen. “Go grab a hard copy of the file, I’m going to try and see where the hell to start.” The android gave a curt nod and left.

Gavin cursed colourfully as he scrolled through the file. There had been no signs of struggle at any of the androids homes, which was the last place all had been seen. The only thing that linked each of the disappearances was a destroyed GPS tracker tied with a lovely, small red ribbon that was found at each of the locations. A nice little message from the abductor saying that they would never find them.

He read through the victims list and scribbled the name of the most recent one on a piece of paper as well as the address of its apartment, the scene hadn’t been cleaned up yet, so he prayed they would find _something_.

There was a thud as something dropped on Gavin’s desk, he jumped and stared at the stack of files now sitting next to him. He glared up at the RK900, who was giving him a cocky smirk. It was the most emotion Gavin had seen on the robots face all day... and it pissed him off.

“Did I scare you detective?” it asked.

“Shut the fuck up.” He swore, flipping the android off. He grabbed the file, shoving it into his leather messenger bag and tried not to think about the grin on the androids face.

“Where to detective?” it asked. Gavin waved the piece of paper above his head as he stormed out of the precinct, giving a quick wave to Hank and Connor as he left.

“The apartment of the latest victim.” he said.

“The WR600 android, Neil?” The RK900 offered and Gavin nodded.

“Oh,” Gavin said, doing a 180 and pointing an accusing finger at the android, “I have a ‘no talking in my car’ policy.”

The android raised a brow, "No promises."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the uploads seem inconsistent sorry, I've started writing this in the middle of the exam period. :') mistake on my behalf.


	2. 60 Centimetres

They got into Neil the WR600’s apartment with little fuss, nothing that a flash of a badge and a few glares from Gavin couldn’t fix. He had a very strong _‘talk to me and I’ll break your nose’_ vibe about him. Conan followed close on Gavin’s heels, being sure to keep his thoughts to himself. He was annoyed about the new partnership, but Gavin had made it clear he was just as annoyed, if not more, about the arrangement. As he stared at the back of Gavin’s head, he took note of the distance Gavin made sure to put between them at all times.

_60 centimetres._

He tried not to think about the way Gavin looked at him like he was a piece of furniture.

The way he addressed him as an ‘it’.

The hatred he expressed towards Conan’s very existence.

Conan looked directly ahead of him, deciding not to think about it further.

Gavin had spoken to him very little during the car ride to the block, the only times he did was to tell him to shut up, and Conan didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

“This place is a fucking crime scene investigators worst nightmare.” Gavin stated as his eyes darted around the apartment. It had been closed off to the public, not that they would be an issue considering they were trying to keep this whole situation under wraps.

Conan scanned the room they stood in. There was little to no mess. No clothes on the floor or furniture out of place. A scan of the fridge indicated it was empty.

_So he didn’t have humans visit regularly._

“There it is.” Gavin said, pointing to the GPS tracker and red ribbon on the kitchen bench.

“The GPS had been destroyed with a heavy, blunt object.” Conan explained after a scan, “There are no fingerprints located on either the GPS or the ribbon itself. The ribbon is made of a basic cotton material with-“

“Oh my god shut up.” Gavin said, snapping his fingers in Conan’s face. Reed looked around the room again, hands on hips.

Conan finally allowed himself to express annoyance with a sigh. He had enough of this shit.

“Watch your behaviour, Detective.” He said. Gavin flipped him off, but Conan grabbed his wrist and twisted, receiving a yelp from Gavin in response. He shoved Gavin away, who went stumbling into the centre of the living room, cradling his wrist, and Conan brushed off invisible fluff from his shoulder. He wanted to make sure Gavin knew he was stronger, faster and more resilient than he was. Conan wanted to make sure Gavin knew that he had a right to do what he wanted without having some human shout at him for it, or else he’d fight back.

“What the fuck, you piece of plastic shit!” Gavin yelled.

“Stop.” Conan said, pointing a finger at Gavin, shutting him up. “How about this, you quit treating me like an object and I stop thinking you’re an idiot. And the name’s _Conan_. Learn it. Use it.” His tone was flat, he was effectively saying _no bullshit._ He could see the rage flicker across Gavin’s face and prepared himself for a fight. He would have to move it out into the hallway to not mess with the state of the apartment and possibly ruin whatever evidence there was. Instead, Gavin just flipped him off again, sneering at him. Conan cocked a brow but decided to let it go.

He didn’t have the patience for this man, he needed to remain professional.

He rolled his eyes and began to walk around the apartment, not bothering to spare Gavin a second glance. It was a small place: one bedroom with a master bed, one bathroom with appliances that looked brand new, a laundry and a kitchen with a joining living room with seats that appeared to not have been used yet. There was one used chair, sitting awkwardly away from the table. Conan stored that information away for later. The walls were clear of paint, exposing the red bricks of the foundations, giving the room an industrial feel. There was little to no decoration and, as Conan saw when he opened the bedroom closet, no clothing.

“Odd.” He said, hearing Gavin’s footsteps approach from behind and stop in the doorway to the bedroom.

“What is?” he asked, Conan looked over to him. He was leaning casually on the door frame, arms loosely crossed, but he was tense.

“This man may have been an android, which would explain the lack of mess and food in the kitchen, as well as the unused state of the bathroom. However, the apartment almost gives the impression that no one had been living here at all.”

Gavin nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s fucking odd.” Gavin and Conan stared at each other for a few seconds. Gavin looked deep in thought, what he was thinking about Conan wouldn’t be able to guess, but what Conan could see that he was conflicted. Eventually Gavin turned his gaze downward, unable to maintain the eye contact. That was odd too.

“Maybe,” Gavin said at last, “he had only just moved in.”

Conan shook his head, “According to the files he had been living here for the past 8 months.” Conan continued to stare at Gavin as he spoke, reading his reactions, “plenty of time to unpack. Plus, there’s no boxes or suitcases.”

Gavin nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his jacket. Conan’s gaze was still on him, and Conan could swear he saw the tips of Gavin’s ears turn red.

 _Frustration_ , Conan concluded.

Gavin turned on his heels and headed back to the kitchen, Conan stared at the closet one last time before following.

He found Gavin standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips, tapping his foot. When he heard Conan approach, he frowned. Conan also saw him tense up again. “It doesn’t make sense.” Gavin stated, he sounded, unsurprisingly, frustrated.

Conan waited for him to continue, instead Gavin just kept looking around the apartment.

_68% LEVEL OF STRESS_

Conan found himself mirroring Gavin’s frown.

“Well, did you think this would be easy?” Conan asked. He headed towards the exit, not expecting a response. “I’m done here.” Gavin stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

“Hey! What do you mean you’re done here?!” He shouted after him.

Conan waved him off. He wanted to talk to the receptionist downstairs to see if she knew anything. The files stated that some of the staff had been questioned already, but he wanted to be sure.

“Hey, stop you fucking plastic prick you don't decide when we leave!” Gavin persisted as Conan walked down the hallway, his voice a lot closer this time. Conan reacted to the insult in a second, twisting his body quickly, using one arm to grab Gavin’s forearm and using the other to push him against the wall, placing his own forearm against Gavin’s throat, using his elbow to hold Gavin's other hand in place against the wall.

“It’s _Conan_.” He said it in a hushed tone. In any other situation, the words could almost have been intimate. Gavin kicked violently under his grip to no avail, Conan just pushed down harder on his throat.

“Fuck…” Gavin gasped, his voice coming out raspy, “When I thought… you’d drive me up the wall, I didn’t mean it literally goddamn it!”

Conan raised a brow, letting Gavin go, who reeled over and put his hands on his knees, coughing. Conan stared at him. It wasn’t the insult that had triggered his anger, quite the contrary, he didn’t care about that at all.  _Sticks and stones,_ he thought. No, what he wanted was for Gavin to know that he could handle himself against him. That he could bite.

“Goddamn android with your superhuman speed.” Gavin spat, the anger in his voice was minimal, but he looked like he wanted to skin Conan alive, and might have tried if Conan hadn’t had knocked all the wind out of him.

Conan shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to go question the receptionist.” He said, whatever emotion that had appeared in his voice before vanished, replaced with his familiar, monotonous tone. He definitely did not have the patience for this, but there was one thing he found he liked. He enjoyed the feeling of Gavin powerless under him. He made a note to self to fight more often.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin watched from a distance as the android questioned the receptionist behind the desk. She was a pretty thing, red hair pulled neatly off her face, freckles dusted her cheeks and nose and her eyes were a bight blue. _Not as blue as Conan's though_ , Gavin noted. 5 years ago Gavin might have even asked her out, but there wasn’t a chance of that happening now, so he let his gaze linger on RK900. _Conan_ , he corrected. After their little argument, he found a newfound respect for the thing, but he was still fucking pissed about it, his throat still hurt.

The android had made it very clear that he didn’t like being insulted. Wasn’t going to stop Gavin though, he wanted to show the thing that he could bite too.

Gavin had to admit that the outburst had surprised him. Having Conan, who’s outer image was portrayed as being so calm and composed, nearly suffocate him in the middle of a hallway was definitely a shock. He cursed at himself for not fighting back more and felt his face turn a shade of red. The android had humiliated him, made him feel powerless.

"Asshole." he grumbled.

Seeing Conan approach snapped him out of his thoughts and he tilted his head expectantly, he didn't hide the annoyance on his face though.

“Anything?” he asked, bored. Conan shook his head.

“Nothing. She didn’t see anyone suspicious, and she also claims that she rarely saw Neil himself when she was on shift. I’d like to go back to the precinct to do some further investigation. Detective Chris Miller sent me a message saying he's coming to collect the evidence.” Conan stated, adjusting the wrist cuffs of his coat as he did. It was a funny looking thing Gavin thought, white and black with a high collar that looked like a neck brace. Gavin didn’t know if he found it funny or intimidating. No, it was definitely funny. He must have shown what he was thinking on his face because Conan smirked at him.

“Something amusing, Detective?” He asked. Gavin gestured at the coat.

“You look fucking ridiculous.” He said.

“Those are some mighty brave words coming from someone who nearly suffocated.” Conan replied, though there was amusement in his voice.

“You look like you could suffocate with that thing, too.” Gavin said, gesturing to his own neck to indicate the collar.

Conan laughed, it wasn’t sarcastic or forced, it was a short, genuine laugh and Gavin felt whatever he was about to say cut short as he listened. Conan’s expression turned to one of concern when he saw Gavin’s face and tilted his head.

“Is something wrong, Detective?” he asked. Gavin immediately shook his head.

“It’s nothing. Come on asshole, you said you wanted to go to the precinct so let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Conan stared at him for a moment, but then gave a curt nod. As they walked back to the car, Gavin swore he heard Conan say “50 centimetres”.

_Fucking weirdo._


	3. Headphones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep editing this chapter because I found I wrote it at like 1am. So forgive me :’). But I had fun writing it.

“This doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Gavin said. Conan added another line on the tally he had made on a notepad on his desk.

“That’s 14.” He said blankly.

Gavin glared at him, “Hey asshole, how about instead of keeping track of how many times I can repeat things you actually help?”

The android shrugged. It had been 3 days since they had been to Neil’s apartment, and Gavin was getting restless. He and Conan had spent the past 3 days sitting in the office, staying overtime to try and get a clue.

Everyone had gone home, Connor and Hank had left last, wishing Gavin and Conan luck and now Conan had been playing this little game of ‘ _How many times will Gavin say he’s confused’_ with his notebook.

Gavin placed his head down on his desk and groaned. It was past midnight and he was tired as shit. “It doesn’t make any _fucking sense!”_

“15.” He heard Conan say.

Gavin was tempted to throw a pen at him. “Why would the apartment be empty? Why was the fucking surveillance footage missing?” That was a lovely fact they had discovered when they had gotten back to the department from the apartment, Gavin had nearly flipped his desk over.

Gavin closed his eyes while he lay on the desk and blindly reached for his coffee cup. It was his 4th one today, he was running on caffeine at this point. When he found the cup he frowned when he felt that it was empty. A second later a hand nudged his shoulder. He raised his head and saw Conan standing there holding another cup for him.

“Drink up Detective, I fear we may be here a while.” The android had removed it’s coat and had rolled up the sleeves of it’s black undershirt. Gavin was a little caught off guard with how, _human_ Conan looked. Removing his coat had further showed off Conan’s slim waist and toned build. He would be what most would consider attractive. And with that thought Gavin stopped thinking and started banging his head on the desk.

“This doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“16.”

“I swear to fucking god.” Gavin pushed himself up and started pacing around the office. Conan watched Gavin have his little meltdown from his desk, Gavin noticed how he wasn’t as stiff as he had been when he first arrived. He was leaning his elbows on the desk, twirling a pen with practiced ease in his right hand, it reminded Gavin of the weird coin trick Connor did sometimes.

“What are we missing?” he asked. Conan said nothing. “There has to be something. We need another breakthrough or else this case will go cold.”

Conan’s LED flashed yellow as he thought. “I have a theory. Maybe the reason why the apartment had been so empty was because Neil didn’t actually _live_ in it.”

Gavin stopped pacing and stared at his partner. Conan continued, “He may have bought the apartment so that he would have a registered home. Or maybe in case he wanted a backup location.” The android narrowed his eyes, “But why?” He tapped the pen against his cheekbone.

Gavin rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t fucking know.” He slumped back down in his chair and pulled out his headphones. They weren’t Bluetooth, but rather the old wire and plug kind. He knew if he had Bluetooth headphones he’d loose them in less than a day, but goddamn it these headphones tangled too much.

He cursed as he tried to untangle the wire and jolted a little when Conan leaned across his desk and plucked them out of Gavin’s hands. He began to untangle them quickly, slipping the pen behind his ear to use both hands, and when he was done he held them out to Gavin.

“Huh.” Was all Gavin said as he took the headphones from Conan, “Appreciate it.” _That was too friendly_ , “Asshole.” _That’s better_. Him and Conan had been doing well these past few days. Since their little argument in the apartment, Gavin had made an effort to not call Conan anything else but ‘ _fucker’_ and _‘asshole’_ , and in return Conan hadn’t tried to kill him again. But he was getting bolder with his sass and Gavin personally thought that was worse.

He threw the headphones on and connected his phone.

“I’m going to rest my eyes for a while. Wake me in half an hour got it.” Conan was looking down at his notepad, pen back in hand. He gave Gavin a quick thumbs up.

So Gavin was very surprised when he was woken not by his partner but by gunshots.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin jolted awake, instinct told him to get down. He dropped off his chair, ripped out his headphones and laid himself on the floor, his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

He reached up to his desk, grabbed his service weapon and flipped off the safety, he then checked if it was loaded, and lifted his head slowly over his desk. The first thing he noticed was that Conan wasn’t in his seat. _Oh no._

He looked around the room, when he was certain it was empty he climbed to his feet, gun held in front of him as he began to search the area. The cafeteria was clear, side offices were clear, but when he got to the holding cells he felt his heart jump into his throat. Conan lay sprawled on his back, blue blood staining his shirt and splattered all over the floor. Gavin saw some of the blood as a trail leading down the glass of the holding cells, where Conan had tried to hold himself up. He looked back at Conan, his LED flashed red, his eyes were wide.

“Fuck.” Gavin hissed and ran over to his fallen partner, he didn’t touch Conan instantly, instead looking for the source of the wound, which he discovered was on Conan’s right arm. A bullet had gone right through. There was another wound, this one was on Conan’s chest, just above where a humans heart would normally be.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” Gavin cursed.

_Not again._

“Conan, Conan speak to me.” Gavin placed his hands on Conan’s cheeks. He was cold.

_No, this would not happen again._

“Conan I swear to fucking god,” Gavin fumbled in his pocket for his phone and cursed when he realised that he left it near his desk with his headphones.

_No, no, no._

He tapped on Conan’s cheek a few times. “Hey? Hey, Conan I’m going to need you to talk to me partner, tell me what to do.” He was finding it hard to keep his voice steady.

No he would not loose another one. Not now, not when things were getting better.

His pleas were met with slight movement as Conan raised his left arm slowly. Gavin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Conan gave a slight thumbs up. He did a mix of the both.

“Oh thank fucking God.” He jumped up and started running back to his desk, but skidded to a stop, he pointed at Conan. “Don’t fucking move a muscle.” Conan gave a weak ‘ok’ with his fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

“What the fuck happened to you guys?” Hank said. Gavin rolled his eyes. Instead of calling a doctor or something, like any person would, he had decided in a fit of panic to call Hank and Connor instead, and boy did he regret that decision. Connor was kneeling next to Conan, who sat on his seat patiently as Connor helped with his injures.

Connor gave Hank and Gavin a nod, “He’ll be fine. It didn’t hit any of his main systems. Almost did! But didn’t.”

“Connor shut up.” Gavin said, rubbing at his temples, he had a headache. Hank slapped the back of Gavin’s head and Gavin was ready to shoot the man as he felt his headache throb harder. “Fuck off!” he slapped Hanks arm.

“You have an attitude problem you bastard.” Hank said,

“I’m working on that.” Conan commented.

“A thank you to the android who saved _your_ android would be good, don’t you think?” Hank said, ignoring Conan’s comment, and crossed his arms. Why did Gavin feel like an angry mother was scolding him?

Gavin scoffed, “Thanks Connor.” Connor beamed at him.

“Anytime, Detective!” He stood and gave Conan a pat on the shoulder. “Be more careful next time.”

“No promises.” Conan said, testing his arm.

“What the fuck happened?” Gavin asked. He hadn’t had a chance to ask that yet, he had been too occupied with sitting next to Conan and trying to make sure he didn’t go shutting down on him.

“I heard a noise, I went to investigate, I got shot. The end.” Conan said.

“More details asshole.”

“Always the detective aren’t you, Reed? Someone had been lurking around the holding cells, I went to check who it was and I ran into a masked man who, as you can see,” he gestured to himself, “shot me for doing my job.”

“Get used to it.” Hank commented.

“The man, did you manage to run your little,” Gavin pointed at his face, “face recognition, thingy?” He asked, ignoring Hank’s comment. Conan cocked an eyebrow.

“Shall I repeat my last statement? A _masked_ man.”

Hank spoke again, “He’s a sassy one isn’t he?”

“Tell me about it.” Gavin said, growing more frustrated. He was too tired for this.

“But I still got him.” Conan added. “I’m the latest model, I’m made for these things, and his mask didn’t cover his eyes. Johnathan Baines. Aged 26, Blood type AB. Arrested for drug use and possible kidnapping. Height and weight match that of the shooter.”

“Why the fuck couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“I wanted to annoy you.”

“Well you did a good job at that.” Reed grumbled, but there was no fight in his voice. He rubbed his eyes, his exhaustion was starting to sink in, he had gotten around 8 hours sleep in the past 3 days and it was showing.

“Maybe you should try and get some sleep.” Hank said, giving Gavin a firm pat on his back. “Connor and I can track your guy for you. Then you guys can do what you do best.”

“Get shot?” Gavin offered, shooting a tired, amused look at Conan, who did his signature eyebrow raise.

“Catch the bad guys.” Hank corrected.

Gavin wanted to feel happier than he did right now. Something interesting had happened; they had a possible lead on their cold case. But the panic that he had experienced when Conan nearly fucking _died_ had made him too tired to think about anything.

“Yeah fuck this. I’m going to my apartment.” He looked at Conan and furrowed his brows. Did Conan even have a place to sleep? Gavin felt a surprising feeling of concern wash over him as he pondered the question.

As if he could read what Gavin was thinking, Conan spoke up “I have an apartment, detective. Why wouldn’t I?” He said. Of course he did, Gavin was being paranoid. He really needed sleep. Conan turned to Hank and Connor, “But I think I’ll help Connor and the lieutenant in tracking down our suspect. I don’t need sleep after all and I’m fine now.” Gavin was about to argue with him, like hell he’d continue the investigation without him.

“I suggest you both have a day off.” Connor suggested before Gavin could say anything, “It would be unhealthy for both of your stress levels if you were to jump back into the case in such a short period. I also believe this would be good considering it will take at least a day for the lieutenant and I to track the suspect.” Conan remained silent for a second but nodded, but Gavin found himself more annoyed at that idea than Conan’s. 

“What the fuck am I going to do with a day off?” He complained, he wanted to get back onto the case as soon as he could. Get this frustrating shit over with. A day off was the last thing he needed. It was a day off to think about things he had been too tired to think about for the past 3 days, or what he refused to think about.

“Sleep.” Conan said, “And work on your,” he made quotations with his fingers, “’attitude problem’”.

Hank burst into laughter and Gavin flipped him off. Maybe he did need a day away from Conan, after all there’s only so much time you can spend in the presence of a person before they start to really annoy you. He groaned, he was already annoyed. 

Conan stood, and as he and Gavin gave their farewells and started for the exit, he looked down between himself and Gavin. "40 centimetres." Gavin heard him mumble. He decided he would question Conan about it later, at a better time, preferably when he could fucking think straight.


	4. A “Day Off”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who’ve been reading and thanks for the kudos <3  
> Im trying to upload as quick as I can before I get completely lost in exams

“When we suggested you have a day off, this is not what we expected.” Hank said to Gavin, who was standing next to Hank’s desk. He had decided to come by the office in the end, because he found that sitting around his apartment doing nothing wasn’t doing him any good. True to their word, Hank and Connor had been looking into the shooter and Connor swore black and blue that they would find him by the end of the day.

Gavin thought coming in would be a great idea considering Conan would be out on  _his_  day off, but he was slightly offended when he walked into the office that morning and everyone had groaned at him in unison. Even Fowler was annoyed to see him come in.

“You’re a workaholic.” Hank groaned.

“And you’re an alcoholic, so we’re even.” Gavin shot back.

“I’ll have you know I’m getting better. I only have  _one_  glass a day now, not 3 bottles.” Hank said triumphantly, indicating ‘one’ with his finger.

“A glass a day keeps death at bay.” Connor said from his desk, Hank tapped his nose at that. 

“You’re two need help.” Gavin said and leaned over Hanks desk to look at his monitor. “What have you got?”

“Aye, aye, aye! Privacy Gavin!” Hank exclaimed and shooed Gavin away with his hand, “We’ve got this alright? Go back home and rest some more- oh my god.” Hank slapped his hand over his face and groaned (Gavin registered half the department doing the same) and Gavin turned to see what had triggered it.

Conan was making his way over to them and Gavin couldn’t help but groan with the rest of them. What was this fucker doing here? There was no escape from him. Gavin noticed how the android wasn’t in his uniform, but rather in a black long sleeved turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and wearing a nice pair of matching black jeans. Gavin had to do a double take to make sure he had seen him right.

“You two are fucking ridiculous.” Hank said, shaking his head. Gavin stared at Conan who just stared back.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gavin asked.

“I could ask you the same question, Detective.” Conan countered.

“He’s tormenting me.” Hank explained and Gavin shot him a venomous look.

“I’m  _working_.” He corrected, crossing his arms and turning his attention back to Conan. “Weren’t you shot just a day ago? Why are you back at work?”

Conan pursed his lips. “I’m not here to work, Detective.”

“Oh really? I never would have guessed.” Gavin said. When Conan gave him a smug grin he felt a chill run down his spin. Why was he grinning at him? Gavin narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll have you know I was called in; apparently I needed to pick up my angry cat.” Conan said in a honeyed voice. Gavin shot a look of shock over to Hank who raised his hands defensively.

“Hey, you’ve been watching me the whole time. I didn’t do it.” He said. Gavin’s eyes slowly dragged to Connor, who just shrugged.

“I figured you wouldn’t listen to us, so I thought your partner could convince you to relax.” He said innocently. “I’m only looking out for your wellbeing, Detective Reed.”

“The fuck you are! You wanted me less stressed and thought the best way to do that was to bring this asshole into it?” He said, gesturing at Conan, who remained silent. He was leaning casually against an empty desk, examining his sleeves; uninterested in the argument taking place before him.

Gavin was going to continue arguing, but instead found his eyes wandering along Conan’s lean frame. He studied the turtleneck Conan wore that clung to his toned body, his exposed forearms and his flawless, almost porcelain skin. His eyes looked down to the jeans that curved with his form, the way they drew attention to... certain areas.  _A perfect body, damn him,_ Gavin thought. Conan was so much more attractive than he was and the thought made him a little melancholy for a second. He gave Conan another once over and took note of how the whole outfit brought out the androids striking blue eyes. That he then noticed were looking directly at him. 

_FUCK._

He felt his face flush a dark shade of red and quickly dropped his head down to look at Hank’s desk. Caught red fucking handed. 

He didn’t know if he was more embarrassed by the fact that he’d been caught staring, or the fact that he had been checking out Conan in the first place. He had no shame when it came to checking people out, but when it was Conan it was just felt…  _weird._

He heard Hank snort a laugh, felt his face grow even warmer, and managed a glare at the man, who was clutching his stomach from laughter. With tears in his eyes, Hank spoke again “How about you two go, we’ll keep you updated, yeah?” He offered, still laughing like a madman.

Gavin had never been more willing to get out of there. 

He gave a short nod, not trusting himself to speak, and practically stormed out of the office, head aimed at the floor the whole time. He decided not to think about the amused look on the fucking android’s face when he had caught him staring, instead deciding to think of all the ways he could kill Connor for calling Conan there in the first place.

Once Gavin was outside, he was tempted to curl into a little ball and just die there on the pavement. He settled on smoking a cigarette instead, taking a minute to appreciate the relief it offered and hung his head in shame. He ignored the concerned look passerby’s gave him and figured he must have looked pathetic, smoking in the middle of the pavement looking sorry for himself.

He was never going to live this down. 

Conan was going to come out here, all smug and proud that he had caught Gavin checking him out and use it as ammunition against him the rest of their partnership. It was a fate worse than death, and he didn’t even have the excuse of being half asleep and not thinking straight, even though the last thing he was is straight. He had figured that out 5 years ago. He snorted at the memory.

_Stupid CyberLife and their stupid designers._

He put out the cigarette under his foot and let out a long, melodramatic sigh.

When Conan came outside Gavin felt himself tense, preparing for the the mockery that was sure to come, and prepared a bank of nasty responses if it did. Conan said nothing. Instead, he just stood quietly next to Gavin in the middle of the sidewalk, hands clasped together behind his back.

“I wasn’t aware you liked to smoke, Detective Reed.” He said, the same modulated tone back in place. Gavin felt a weight lift off his shoulders and he felt himself relax a little.

“I’m trying to quit.” He explained, deciding this topic was better than the alternative, “But sometimes we all need one. Well I mean us lesser humans anyway. Do you androids even have things like this?” He said looking down at his cigarette packet. Conan shook his head. “Figured.”

He shoved the packet back into his jacket pocket and started tapping his foot on the pavement, until the silence between them became uncomfortable. He stared at the street instead, watching the mix of people and androids as they went about their daily tasks. He liked the blues, white and greys of the city, because even though it was a cold pallet, it made everything so surreal when the sun went down. Night time was his favourite, but he figured he didn’t mind these sunny afternoons either. He’d never taken the time to slow down and think about it before. The silence became comfortable, and Gavin side glanced up at Conan. He was looking directly ahead at nothing in particular, Gavin wondered if he was seeing the same thing he was.

“Would you like to go get a coffee, Detective?” Conan asked when he felt Gavin’s eyes on him. Reed looked ahead again and nodded slowly, uncertain, but then nodded more confidently a second later.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

Conan’s shoulders seemed to relax a little and the android smiled. It was a real smile, Gavin noticed,  and he saw the crow’s feet at the corners of Conan’s eyes. 

A nice touch. 

“I know there’s a coffee place down the street from here, shall we go there?” Conan asked. Gavin gave him a disgusted look.

“Fuck no! That place serves trash coffee.” He stated, offended that Conan had even suggested the place. “Now if you want  _good_ coffee,  _Mug Shot Café_  is the place.” The local café had opened 12 years ago and when Gavin had went at it’s opening he’d never turned back. The name is what originally caught his attention, no one seemed to understand why he found it so funny.

“Let’s go shall we?” Conan offered. Gavin perked up at the thought of going to the café after so long. He wondered if Conan would like it. 

Androids don’t need food.

He frowned. He was sure Conan would at least appreciate the design of the place. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly missed the sound of Conan saying “30 centimetres,” under his breath as they left. He would ask him about it later.

* * *

 

Conan and Gavin walked to the café in a comfortable silence. When the building came into view Gavin beamed.

“There it is! What a beauty.” He exclaimed. Conan gave the café a once over. It’s walls were a clean white, intentional graffiti art coating its lower half, the words ‘MUG SHOT’ sprayed across the front in dark red paint. Wooden framed windows and an oak door. There was also a pop-out balcony, with a few bar stools spread along under the makeshift bar on the balcony’s railing.

A few tables and chairs were scattered outside, nearly all of them occupied with smiling customers. Conan could see the appeal of the location; it had an artsy design and was far enough away from any overly busy roads for it to be peaceful most of the day. He liked it and internally complimented Gavin’s taste.

The only thing disturbing the peace was a group of 4 thug like men lingering around the front of the door, all in leather like some sort of biker gang. Conan didn’t know if that meant trouble, but judging by the smile on Gavin’s face he assumed it was alright.

“Oscar!” Gavin exclaimed giving one of the biker men a firm pat on the back as he approached. Conan decided to linger a little further behind to observe. The man known as Oscar was shorter than Reed was, and plump. His he had cropped red hair an overgrown beard, that covered an aged, weather worn face. Conan noted how the man was surprisingly well kept compared to the other bikers. With a quick scan Conan identified the man as the owner of the café. Mr Oscar Davis, 53, married with 3 kids. 

“Gavin! Good to see you man!” Oscar boomed, his voice could be heard over any conversation. “How have you been?” He and Gavin grabbed hands and pulled each other in for bro-hug, patting each other’s backs as they pulled apart.

“Good man, how’s the wife?” Gavin asked, Conan had never heard him sound so comfortable talking with someone before. Oscar laughed, it was louder than his speaking voice.

“She’s good! Café’s been going good too.” Oscar explained with a gesture to the building, showing how proud he was of his little business.

Conan began to tune out of their conversation and instead decided to study Gavin. He looked in his element here, the smile on his face never dropping, his eyes sparkled with excitement as he spoke to Oscar. Conan was surprised to find himself frowning. Gavin had never behaved like this around the office or around him. He didn’t speak to Conan with the same sparkling eyes he did with Oscar.

Conan assumed that they had been friends for a long time, but he felt himself feeling somewhat… frustrated. 

His mind wandered back to the way Gavin had been looking at him this morning. The way he had looked him up and down, taking in the sight of him, his eyes yearning for... something. He found it amusing to think about. He was attractive, he knew that because he had been made so on purpose, but he never expected a man like Gavin to think so.

“Oscar, this is Conan, my partner in crime.” Gavin’s voice cut in, snapping Conan out of his thoughts. He made his way over, shaking Oscar’s hand.

Partner in crime. He liked the sound of that and stored it for later.

They exchanged quick pleasantries before Oscar had to leave, explaining that the shop was very busy that day, but took the time to personally escort Gavin and Conan to a lovey table just next to the window. 

Conan said nothing as Gavin stood to go order their coffee at the front counter. Gavin had insisted Conan drink too or else it would be just weird for him to be here, Conan found himself unable to refuse. He saw Gavin and the lady behind the register exchange a few happy words. She was pretty, Conan noted as he watched Gavin speak with her. Did he like this woman? It was a possibility. 

He blinked a few times and looked down at the table. He was playing with a fork that had been sitting in a wire holder placed in the centre of the table. He frowned when the fork slipped out of his fingers as he spun it and fell to the table with a small  _thud_. That was odd. He made a mental note to do a scan later to make sure his systems were all working efficiently and put the fork back into the holder. He was acting weird and decided to look out the window instead. He saw the couples on the tables outside and couldn’t help but smile at them. Yeah, it was a nice café.

* * *

 

Gavin stopped in his tracks when he saw Conan at their table, his hold on the two coffee cups he held faltered slightly at the sight. Conan sat with an elbow on the table, chin resting on his hand as he stared outside. The wind from the open window played with his hair a little, messing with the usually perfectly placed stands of hair that grazed the androids forehead. The light of the slowly setting sun gave the whole scene a soft touch, it was something you’d expect to see in a painting. 

The android looked relaxed as he stared out the window, smiling at something he saw outside, and Gavin felt himself mirroring the smile. He liked this, how relaxing it felt. He had been so caught up thinking about the case that he didn’t realise how much he missed just not having some free time.

He returned to the table and was slightly disappointed when the smile vanished from Conan’s face, but he kept smiling.

He was about to ask about Conan’s weird habit of counting centimetres when his phone began to ring in his pocket. He gave an annoyed curse and whipped it out and checked the display. Hank. 

He raised a finger at Conan who in return raised a brow and answered the call.

Hank filled him in quickly and Gavin felt his heart race when he hung up. They had found the shooter, he was at a nightclub downtown.

“We can go tonight.” Conan told Gavin after he filled him in. “If we start walking there now we can make it just before sunset.” 

Gavin nodded and sipped his coffee. He felt kind of disappointed that they hadn’t had a real chance to just not do anything and chat, but he was also pumped to pursue this Johnathan asshole. It had been too long since he’d had a chance to do something like this. Conan chugged his entire coffee in one gulp and Gavin nearly spat out his drink.

“Hey! Slow down! It’s hot you fucker!” Gavin said, reaching over the table to rip the coffee cup out of Conan’s hand. Conan blinked at him a few times, his LED flashing yellow.

“I think you’ll find that’s not an issue for me.” He said. Gavin cursed at himself for his stupidity.

“Right. Forgot you’re a machine.” Gavin said, slowly taking a sip of his coffee. How the fuck had he accidently forgotten that, the thing had an LED and everything, and no human could possibly look that attractive. He nearly spat out his drink again.

Conan looked disappointed for the slightest of seconds, but the expression vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

“A machine.” It echoed, and Gavin felt his stomach drop. But Conan was a machine, just like Connor and that Markus guy and any other android. He was just another machine like the rest of them and that was the truth. Then why did it feel like a lie?

* * *

 

“Got him!” Gavin shouted as he barged into the office with Conan at his heels, he was holding the shoulder of the now handcuffed Johnathan Baines. An unshaven middle aged asshole with the energy of a toddler and was as slippery as a snake. Catching him in a crowd of people was a fucking nightmare.

“Why is your face bleeding? And why are you covered in booze?” Hank yelled from the cafeteria, his head poked around the corner of the wall to watch them.

“This asshole,” Gavin said, pointing an accusing finger at Conan, “Threw a fucking bottle at me.”

Conan passed Johnathan to Miller as he passed and raised his arms in defence. “To be fair, I was aiming for ‘the asshole’.” He said nodding his head towards Baines, voice calm and professional. “Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped in front of him. It would have been a perfect shot.”

“It was a perfect shot, you got the asshole alright.” Hank called. Gavin turned to him and flipped him off but Hank just laughed.

“Let’s just question the bastard and get this over with.” Gavin said, turning back to Conan, but Conan just shook his head.

“Not a chance. You’re going home to have a shower and I’m going to question him.”

Gavin looked scandalised and pointed a finger between Conan’s eyes, “Well you fucking reek of perfume! I saw that lady all over you, don’t try to deny it!” 

Gavin’s memory went back to the club, with the flashy lights and the blaring music that nearly sent him deaf. The image of him standing off in a dark corner while Conan sat at the bar questioning patrons. Some drunk woman had started grinding on him and Conan had played along, not dancing with her but rather making the woman sit down with him as he bought her a drink and flashed his signature smile. The woman looked ready to do whatever Conan asked of her, and it pissed Gavin off. He felt something in the pit of his stomach as he recalled the memory and he didn’t like it. He decided again, like he had with many other things that evening, to not think about it.

The woman had been the one who told them where Johnathan was, which was in the middle of the dance floor. One thing led to another and now he stood in the middle of the office, his face bloody with alcohol dripping off his clothes.

“How about you both go home and shower while Connor and I question the suspect?” Hank suggested, they both stared at him. “The captain was so impressed with our tracking abilities he’s put us as official number two’s on the case.” He said it with a smile, but it was far from happy. 

Gavin cursed and wished the captain had chosen, literally, anyone else to help them. On seeing Hank’s reaction, Gavin assumed the man was probably wishing the same thing.

Connor appeared at Gavin’s side, who jumped because he had definitely not seen the android approach, and extended his hand to him. “I look forward to working with you, Detective!” he said, and Gavin glowered. At least someone was happy with the arrangement, and he swore he could hear Conan hold back a laugh from behind him.


	5. Snap out of it

Gavin sat in his apartment, making himself comfortable on a couch in the living room. Papers lay scattered all over the glass coffee table in front of him while his stereo sat playing music quietly in the background. 

The apartment was draped in darkness, the lamp next to the couch and the red and blue lights outside the sliding glass doors to the balcony provided the only sources of light.

After Gavin had showered, he had decided to review the case files again, using the hard copy Conan had given him a few days ago. He didn’t expect to find anything, but he figured he might as well try. He was growing more annoyed as he tried to focus, but kept finding his mind wandering to the nightclub, and Conan. The image of the android as he sat on a bar stool, ankles crossed, leaning back on the bar, eyes downcast as he stared at his untouched Bellini. There was never a way to tell what the android was thinking. 

Looking back on it, Gavin decided that he had enjoyed the whole nightclub experience. The feeling of being in the field again, kicking ass and taking names, was refreshing. What people didn’t tell you about being a detective was that it was 90% paperwork, 10% fieldwork, so Gavin learnt to cherish cases that sent him into the field when he could. 

He also found that he enjoyed having a partner again to watch his back. Well, when they didn’t throw bottles in your face. Gavin snickered to himself when he remembered the man near the bar’s expression when Conan had grabbed the bottle out of his hand, it wasn’t angry, but it was like this had happened to him one million times before. Gavin made a mental note to himself to go to clubs more after this.

Gavin didn’t know what to do with himself now, he was definitely not going to be able to focus anymore that night. So instead he just sat on his couch, shirtless, wearing a pair of faded tracksuits with a towel thrown over the top of his head, thinking about the roller coaster of a day he’d had. It was kind of funny really, considering how he’d not wanted to think about work at all that afternoon in the coffee shop, and now he couldn’t think about it even if he tried.

“That’s what you get for taking your eyes off the prize for longer than 5 fucking minutes.” He grumbled. He started bouncing his leg, the craving for a cigarette sinking in.

He sighed and picked up another piece of paper to distract himself. He was better than this, he had to focus. There had to be something in these stupid files that would tell him more.

“This doesn’t make any fucking sense.” He said to no one, his voice inaudible. “17.” He added, attempting to mimic Conan’s voice. He must have really lost it if he was playing the Conan counting game. 

After re-reading the same sentence six times, he eventually gave up and threw the paper back down on the table, using a remote to turn up the stereo. He stretched his arms and leaned into the couch, his head hung back staring at the ceiling, listening and humming to the familiar tune as it filled his apartment.

_Secrets I have held in my heart_

_Are harder to hide than I thought_

_Maybe I just wanna be yours_

_I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours_

_Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours_

 

The loud sound of his doorbell broke the trance and Gavin nearly jumped out of his skin. He reached instantly for the service weapon sitting on the couch’s armrest, the cool metal providing a comfort he’d grown fond of after all his years of being a detective.

He stayed seated, holding his gun for a few seconds, holding his breath expectantly, as if he was waiting for the door to be kicked in. When the doorbell rang a second time he let out a long sigh. He had been too on edge after the shooting incident with Conan in the holding cells, and the 3 cups of coffee he’d had since he got to his apartment to fight his cigarette craving were not helping.

He stood, put the towel around his neck, dragged himself to the door, and quickly looked through the peephole. He frowned. Conan stood patiently in the hallway, his eyes locked downward as he waited. Gavin looked behind him to check the clock.

_10:13_

He chucked his service weapon on the small wooden table he kept next to the door, and winced when he heard the loud clang of metal against metal when the gun hit his keys. He then took a moment to steady himself before he opened the door.

“What are you doing here, dipshit?” he asked, blocking the doorway.

Conan raised an arm, revealing a plastic bag. “It seemed only appropriate I help with your injuries, considering I may be somewhat responsible for them.”

Gavin stared at the bag for a few seconds and then back to Conan. “It’s fucking 10:13 at night.”

“I am aware of the time, Detective. But I wasn’t sure if you were capable of nursing yourself.”

“Fuck off.” Gain said, but he stepped aside to let Conan into the apartment. He closed the door and turned to look at the android as he stood in the middle of the dining room. Well it was supposed to be the dining room; it was more of an empty space connecting the kitchen to the living room. Gavin preferred to eat at either the kitchen bench on a stool, or the coffee table. He didn’t get enough visitors for him to consider getting a proper dining table, he didn’t think there was a point.

He leaned his back against the door and watched as Conan’s gaze drifted around the room; from the retro stereo sitting in its dark corner, to the paintings on the exposed brick feature wall at the far end of the living room. 

“Nice place you have here, Detective.” Conan offered, his eyes studying Gavin’s kitchen. The appliances were still in great condition, considering Gavin didn’t usually cook. The only one that did look used was the coffee machine. Gavin made a mental note to clean the kitchen later, because there were take away meal cartons scattered all over the marble counter-top. He didn’t care if Conan thought he was messy, this was his house after all. He preferred to be judged in the workplace.

“You don’t have to call me bloody ‘Detective’ all the time you know.” Gavin said. Conan nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Detective.”

“See now you’re just trying to annoy me.”

Conan hummed in agreement, and turned his attention back to Gavin. For the briefest of seconds, the android’s eyes looked down Gavin’s exposed torso and then back up to meet his eyes. Gavin felt himself begin to feel a little self-conscious. He wasn’t unfit, in fact his body was above average in terms of fitness. He frequented the gym and did his daily weights at home. But it wasn’t his shape making him uncomfortable, but rather the scars he had received on the job over the years that he knew were there, exposed and in full view. The bullet wounds, cuts and deep scars from other weapons people had used. He rubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with Conan’s eyes on him.

“You didn’t patch yourself up very well.” Conan said, gesturing to Gavin’s face. Gavin placed a hand on his cheek and gritted his teeth when a stinging pain shot through his face. He was so distracted by everything that he hadn’t noticed how much his face actually hurt.

“Well it wasn’t my top priority you know.” He explained, “the smell of booze was making me nauseous. Thanks for that by the way.” He added. Conan didn’t comment and instead gestured to a tall stainless steel stool by the kitchen counter.

“Sit.” He ordered. Gavin groaned, but listened, something in the android’s voice told him he was being dead serious. He sat on the stool, back hunched, and waited as Conan placed the contents of the bag on the counter-top.

“I can take care of myself you ass.” Gavin said, but at this point he was just trying to make conversation because apart from the music, it was too quite in the apartment.

“Sometimes we need someone to assist us.” Conan countered, picking up a bottle he had taken out of the bag and some cotton pads, Gavin grimaced at what he knew was coming.

“Arctic monkeys. Good band I hear.” Conan commented as he poured some of the liquid onto the pad.

“Do androids even listen to music?” Gavin asked.

Conan shrugged. “I don’t personally, but I’m sure there would be some who do.”

“That’s boring- OW!” Gavin shouted when Conan dabbed his face with a cotton pad.

“Sorry.” He said, Gavin knew he didn’t mean it, because he had a smirk playing at his lips. Conan came close to Gavin, his thighs pressed against Gavin’s knees as he leaned in, his mouth pressed into a hard line as he focused on Gavin’s face. Gavin watched the android's lips, scared of accidentally making eye contact. It was oddly intimate and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“What’s the story behind this?” Conan asked, tapping a finger against Gavin’s nose scar. Gavin wanted to lean back, Conan was so close when he had asked the question that he could feel his breath on his face.

“I got it from a red ice bust a few years back.” He explained. “Some girl was being held hostage by the dealers, I went to free her and she must have thought I was coming to murder her or something, because she wacked me with the edge of her handcuffs.” Gavin found the memory laughable now, “I left her there for some other poor officer to deal with because I was fucking pissed. Hank didn’t let me hear the end of it after that. You should have seen my face, my nose bled like fucking Niagara Falls.” He laughed and Conan gave a small smile.

“Sounds like quite an experience.”

Gavin swallowed at the android’s smile and cast his eyes down as he waited for Conan to finish.

“Tell me, Detective,” Conan inquired, “Why don’t you like having a partner?”

Gavin paled. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have; especially not when he was beginning to feel comfortable with Conan being around.

“I, um,” He began, clearing his throat, trying to find the right words, “My old partner. She was… killed in action. Last year.” He had to force the sentence out and felt his chest go tight at the memory.

After the revolution, android protesters had begun to pop up left right and centre. He and Tina Chen had been teamed up to deal with some of the groups that had gone out of control. The day came back to him in sad flashes, he had made a mistake, it seemed so small at the time, but it cost him his partner. He didn’t feel sad about it now, just angry at himself for being so careless. If he had just been a better officer, just done his fucking job properly instead of getting distracted by a fucking attractive man he saw, she would have been fine. But now he was paying the price for his carelessness.

“I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult.” Conan said, he sounded genuinely sorry, clear emotion was in his voice.

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” Gavin said, and looked down at his hands. Conan had stopped touching his face and had been watching him while he spoke. He still couldn’t read the android’s face. It’s LED was flashing yellow. What was he doing? Gavin felt sick. Maybe it was looking at the report on the incident. His suspicions were confirmed when Conan spoke again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Detective.” He said. So he had analysed the file, and for some reason Gavin felt rage bubble in his stomach.

“Yeah I fucking know,” he snapped, not bothering to contain his anger, “‘ _it wasn’t your fault Gavin’_ , _‘oh Gavin, I’m so sorry’_ , _‘you did as well as you could under the circumstances’_.” He said, reciting what people around the office had said to him. He hated it. He hated it so much. The way people tried to convince him that he was innocent in it all. It was his fault, and nothing anyone said meant anything, not his friends, not the shrink he’d seen for it, and definitely not Conan. Gavin had been a bad excuse for a partner, he had fucking failed his friend. That was on him. All of it, it was his fault.

“Detective, listen, I-“ Conan began.

Gavin slammed his fist on the counter, shutting the android up, his vision turning red. He was sick of this. Sick of being pitied. “Don’t give me your fucking condolences! I don’t want to fucking hear them!” He hissed. “Don’t even try to think you can fucking understand what I went through. You’re the ‘perfect model,’ after all, no chance of you making the same mistakes I did. Well I’m just a human who fucks up a lot.”

What was he doing.

“Gavin, calm down-“ Conan tried, but Gavin cut him off.

“You think you can help me? You come fucking barging into my house, telling me I can’t take care of myself? Well fuck you and your perfect programming.”

Did he mean that?

“God, you think you can understand what I went through? Well you don’t even have real fucking emotions! So don’t you dare try to understand mine.”

Wait.

“You’re just a fucking machine. So don’t start thinking you know how it feels to be human!"

A loud bang broke Gavin from his rant, he stared up in surprise to see Conan had slammed his fist on the bench, cracking the expensive marble, his hand bled blue blood as the broken marble broke his skin. His eyes were cold, hard, deadly as he looked into Gavin's eyes.

Gavin felt all the words he had said sink in. He needed to apologise. He needed to say something. Tell Conan that he didn’t mean it.

But he had meant it. And he had too much pride to apologise.

Instead, he just crossed his arms and stared down at the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Conan.

The silence was deafening. The only sound was the music from the stereo, but even that seemed so far away.

 

_I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake baby_  
_Snap out of it,_  
_I get the feeling I left it too late, but baby_  
_Snap out of it,_  
_If that watch don't continue to swing or the fat lady fancies having a sing_  
_I'll be here waiting ever so patiently for you to_  
_Snap out of it_

“I’m done here.” Conan said finally. If he was angry, he didn’t show it in his voice. He didn’t show anything in his voice. But Gavin knew he was angry, the broken counter-top was a reminder of that. Conan left the medical supplies on the bench and made his way to the door, “Your face will be fine. Goodbye, Detective.” He said, words short and quick. He walked passed Gavin, making sure to keep a large space between them as he headed to the door. Mumbling the number one hundred to himself as he left.

Gavin waited until he heard the door click shut before he looked back up at the bench. The marble had been smashed, cracks reached all edged of the counter. He saw blue blood droplets glittering the bench, and Gavin felt his stomach plummet. Why had he gotten so angry? Conan was just trying to help. He didn't deserve to be the target of Gavin's anger. He had made a terrible mistake.

He covered his face with his hands.

What had he fucking done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. What a chapter.  
> Music used - 'I wanna be yours', and 'Snap out of it'. both by Arctic monkeys.


	6. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah okay I was tired when I finished this, so forgive me if there’s a bunch of mistakes. I’ll probably edit it more when I’m more awake

Gavin honesty believed that he would have preferred to get shot rather than go to work the next day. He had gotten no sleep that night, his thoughts had been too distracting, and the more he thought about his argument with Conan, the worse they got. It wasn’t even much of an argument, but rather a one sided attack that he had started.

He had felt so awful the entire evening after that. A part of his mind kept trying to justify his actions, but no matter how many angles he looked at it from, he had been  _way_  out of line. He had no right to speak that way to Conan. The android was really trying it’s best to make it work with him, and he’d just gone and fucked it up.

He walked into the office with his head hung low, and frowned when he saw that Conan’s desk was empty. He looked at his watch. He was 5 minutes late. Was the android late too? Oh shit had he fucked up its programming? Had he busted it’s brain with his assholiness? No, he figured he couldn’t, the Android was too advanced for that. Gavin figured that Conan wouldn’t spend a day moping around his apartment just because Gavin had said a few harsh words, he was too professional, too in control to let something like a fight mess with his head.

Right?

Gavin looked over to Hank and Connor’s desks, which both sat empty also. His eyes searched around the office and his frown deepened when they didn’t appear in his sights.

He saw Detective Miller at his desk, typing furiously, and approached him.

“Hey Miller,” he said, using his thumb to point over his shoulder at the empty desks, “where the hell are they?”

Miller turned from his terminal to face him and glanced at the desks before speaking. “They’re in the interrogation room. Decide to interview that Baines guy from last night.”

Gavin felt his stomach drop. They had begun the interrogation without him.

_What the fuck._

“Thanks Miller.” He said shortly and stormed in the direction of the interrogation rooms, dumping his stuff at his desk on the way.

Had they seriously started without him? He had been waiting to interview the bastard, he took a bottle in the face to catch him and ventured through the sea of drunk people at the club to get to Baines, and he wasn’t even going to be able to interrogate the guy? He was fucking pissed. Conan knew how much he wanted to be part of the interrogation, this was supposed to be  _their_  case, and Conan had gone on without him! With Hank and Connor of all fucking people.

Gavin figured he may have fucked up last night, but just because you were mad at someone doesn’t give you permission to fucking kick them out of their own case. Whatever apology Gavin had been forging in his mind for Conan rippled out of existence, and in its place was fuming rage.

He slammed open the door to the observation room. Hank was sitting on a chair in front of the two-way mirror and Connor was hanging back behind him, arms hung by his sides as they watched the interrogation. When they heard the door open they both looked at him, Hank looked visibly surprised while Connor just stared at him deadpan.

“Mornin’.” Hank said, brows furrowing, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

Gavin pointed an accusing finger between Hank’s eyes.

“Does someone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?" He was finding it hard to control his anger. He needed to calm down.

_To hell with that._

“Conan got in contact with me last night and insisted that we commence the interrogation this morning. He had also insisted that we begin immediately. We have been interrogating him for half an hour, the first 10 of which was just Conan making him uncomfortable.” Connor offered. Gavin turned his finger on him, the last thing he wanted to hear was a voice like Conan’s when all he wanted to do was punch the android in the throat.

“You shut your goddamn mouth.” He looked back to Hank, “why the fuck didn’t you just wait for me?”

Hank raised his hands defensively, “hey, I’m just listening to Conan. Actually he said we shouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t come in today.” He spoke carefully as he added, “did something happen with you guys?”

Gavin ran both hands through his hair and paced slowly in a circle. He didn’t want to answer that fucking question.

So Conan had knowingly left him out of the interrogation. It wasn’t a rush of the moment: _‘quick let’s get this interrogation done now I’m oh so eager to finish this case!’_ , no, it was a full on  _‘how can I show Gavin how much I hate him?’_

He didn’t know what to feel. Angry that his partner had not been, well, his fucking partner? Or guilty for causing the fight in the first place. He settled on anger because it made him feel better.

He crossed his arms, breathing hard as he turned his head to look though the two-way mirror. Conan sat on a steel chair, and Baines sat opposite him, his hands handcuffed to the steel table.

Conan had his hands clasped in front of him on the table and was looking at Baines like he was some sort of hurt puppy. Gavin had to admit that Baines did look like some sort of animal. Brown hair uncut and messy, unshaven face covered in bruises— that Gavin knew he had caused when he had punched the man last night— and ragged clothing that looked like they came from a thrift shop, bright reds against bright greens and yellows, with a nice, hideous sprinkle of purples and pinks. How the hell had he gotten into the club dressed like that? He looked like a fucking character some 2 year old would draw, ignoring the fact that his face looked like the face of a homeless drunk.

The man was fidgeting with his handcuffs, blue eyes downcast and refusing to look up at the android interrogating him. His leg bounced and his eyes darted from the table to the handcuffs and back, fingers flexing like he wanted to scratch an itch but couldn’t reach it. Gavin knew the signs when he saw them, the way Baines eyes were bloodshot and his skin sickly pale, the way he kept licking his lips and almost vibrated in his seat.

“Drugie.” Gavin concluded. He’d been in enough red ice cases to know when someone was on the stuff.

Hank nodded, but Gavin could tell he was still uneasy with the tension Gavin had brought into the room. “Yep, he already admitted that, not that he would have to. You should hear him speak, he talks at like 100 miles an hour, it’s fucking insane and I can’t make out a word he says.”

Gavin ignored him and instead focused on the interrogation. He felt the rage boil in his stomach at the sight of Conan again, all pristine and clean in his fixed uniform. Leaning in, eyes forward. Nothing less than professional. The android glanced for the slightest of moments at the mirror and made direct eye contact with Gavin, who shifted uncomfortably from the sudden attention.

There was no fucking way he could have known Gavin was there. Right?

The android looked back at Baines and leaned back in his seat.

“We can do this one of two ways, Mr Baines,” the android said, Gavin physically grimaced at the androids calm, controlled voice. He didn’t care if he was just being immature about it now, he was still fucking angry.

Conan leaned forward and put his elbows on the bench, threading his fingers together like some sort of evil genius, and rested his chin on them. “You can give us the information we need, or you can get thrown into prison. I mean we do have enough evidence to throw you away for quite a while. You did assault an officer after all.” Conan gestures to himself. “And you have been to prison before, wasn’t it for,” Conan tapped his chin, “3 years? No, 4.” Gavin knew the android already knew the correct answer, and that he wouldn’t have hesitated normally. It was creepy how quickly his personality could flip when he needed it to. Baines’s leg began bobbing faster.

“Look man,” his Scottish accent was thick, and Gavin had to listen harder to understand what he was saying, “I was just doing what I was told, alright?” Hank hadn’t been lying, this guy did talk at 100 miles an hour, and that piled with the accent made him nearly fucking impossible to understand.

Conan’s face stayed neutral. “So tell us,” he insisted, “who is the real villain here?”

Baines looked to the mirror and then back at Conan. 

“I don’t know.”

Conan cocked a brow. “Is that so? Didn’t you say you were given orders?”

“Yeah but not in person. The dude called me, said he’d give me a whole lotta cash for it. Wasn’t lyin’, came home and there it was sitting in the mail, all wrapped in a nice big bow and everything.”

“What was the colour?” Conan interrupted. Baines looked confused.

“What?”

“The colour of the bow.”

Baines shrugged, “bright red. Yeah that was it. A shiny red bow.”

Conan turned to the window again and Hank hummed, “What a coincidence.”

Conan stood abruptly, “We’re done here. Take him to the holding cells.” On cue, two officers entered the room and escorted Baines out, who didn’t put up a fight as he followed them out.

Gavin, Hank and Connor left the observation room and met Conan outside. The moment Gavin and Conan saw each other they tensed. Gavin decided to let his anger take the wheel.

“First of all, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, Conan folded his arms, deciding to listen instead of comment, “This is our fucking case. So who gave you the goddamn right to go off and do it on your own, huh?”

“You’re wrong, Detective, I wasn’t alone I had Hank and Connor assisting. What, are you jealous?” Conan countered.

“Don’t get all smartass on me you asshole.” Gavin hissed. “You knew how much I wanted to interrogate that son of a bitch and you left me out on purpose. Was this for last night? Well I did feel bad about it you know, but now you’ve just pissed me off more, so you can take the apology I was going to give you and shove it up your ass.”

“Gavin—“ Hank began.

“What the fuck is it?!” Gavin barked at the man.

“Okay firstly calm the fuck down!” Hank ordered, jabbing Gavin in the chest with a finger, “you’re the one being a fucking asshole!”

Gavin slapped his hand away “Ho-ho! Look at you defending the robots yet again. Good going Hank, add that to your list of good deeds.” he said with a slow clap.

“Gavin you’re being a real piece of shit. If you don’t get yourself together I’ll have to pay Fowler a visit.” Hank threatened. Gavin waved him off with a sharp motion of his hand.

“Do whatever the fuck you want. I’m out of here.” Gavin snapped and began storming back to his desk. Hank called after him but he ignored it.

He was so angry, and he didn’t even fully understand why. If he looked at it properly it really wasn’t a big deal. It was a success in the investigation, Baines had been talking and Gavin assumed he had told them things before he had arrived. But why was he taking this so awfully? He slumped down in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face.

He needed a cigarette. He wanted one so bad. He itched for it, his leg bouncing. God he must have looked like that fucking drugie, messy hair because he was too tired to do it that morning, same jacket as yesterday because he had wiped it down and it was fucking clean enough, and some (clean?) jeans he had found discarded on his bedroom floor. He must have looked so…  _pitiful_. He slammed his hand on his desk.

“God fucking damn it!” He shouted. Whatever conversation around him died as everyone in the bullpen stared at him. He couldn’t take it in here, he hated all the eyes on him. This is what it had been like after his partners death. Everyone always watching him, analysing him like he was some sort of fucking dog off it’s leash and they didn’t know if he was going to attack or just be overwhelmed and break down.

He looked around the office, glaring at everyone watching. 

“The fuck are you all looking at?” He asked, his tone chilling. They all averted their gazes and scrambled back to what they were doing.

He saw Hank walk back to his desk, not looking over to Gavin at all as he did and dropped in his chair. Conan hadn’t come back and neither had Connor, and Gavin realised that he didn’t care. He stood and made his way to the break room with the full intention of getting himself a coffee and glowered when he saw Connor there. Conan wasn’t, where was he?

_It doesn’t matter._

He made his way to the coffee machine and began the ritual like process of making himself a coffee. He felt Connor slide in next to him and felt his chest tighten, the android was too close and he was too close to the edge for it to be safe, someone was getting punched today.

“Excuse me, Detective?”

“Fuck off.”

“Please listen, I believe this is important information.” Connor insisted. Gavin growled and turned his attention to the android, giving him his best, fake grin.

“What?”

“I believe that you may feel better knowing that Conan did not do the interrogation without you to make you angry.”

 _Bullshit_.

“Oh is that so?”

Connor nodded, “yes, actually he did it with the intention to make you feel better.”

 _Bullshit_.

“How the  _fuck_  would it make me feel better?” He couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“You see Detective, Conan had told me about your... disagreement last night. He also had a theory that the main trigger for your unexpected anger was the fact that you were trying to quit smoking.”

Gavin was going to argue but couldn’t find a good counter, because what Connor said made sense, he never got this angry for such a little thing.

“He had hoped that if you had come into the office today and had discovered that you had more information on the case it would improve your mood. After all, you have been working so hard. He just wanted to give you a break.”

Gavin felt the words hit him like a slap on the face. Was what Connor saying true? Had Conan really done this to make him feel better? Even when he has yelled at him and insulted him, he  _still_  wanted to help? He came to the horrific conclusion that it was true and decided that if anyone was going to be punched that day it should be him.

Gavin felt sick. He didn’t want a coffee anymore, his anger went out like a blown candle when he realised that he had fucked up. Again. And it was bad. 

He needed to do something, and he needed to do it now. Any other person may have taken this information and decide to sulk about how bad of a person they were in solitude, but Gavin felt like he owed Conan an apology, and he hated owing people things. And he had been an asshole, he admitted it.

“He’s in the evidence room.” Connor offered, guessing Gavin’s intentions. Gavin gave him a quick nod of thanks and pretty much sprinted to the evidence locker, receiving several curses from people he nearly knocked to the ground along the way.

He needed to fix this, right now. He didn’t know if he would be able to, but he was going to fucking try.

 

* * *

 

 

Conan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the little collection of GPS trackers with red ribbons the DPD had collected over the course of the case. He was angry, angry that Gavin was insistent on not listening to him, insistent on just being… _stubborn._

He didn’t mean to loose his temper in Gavin’s apartment. The whole time Gavin had been yelling at him, he had kept reminding himself that the man was struggling, that he had reasons to be angry, but something in Gavin’s words had just triggered something in him. And he said sorry for his anger the one way he thought Gavin would appreciate the most, working on the case.

He had made a huge miscalculation.

He couldn’t explain it, but after Gavin had taken him to the cafe, after seeing him in the club standing isolated in the corner, looking out over the sea of people, he felt responsible for him. He wanted to protect him.

He didn’t understand why he felt it so strongly, especially last night. When Gavin had been sitting on the stool, so close to him that he could feel his body heat, looking down at his hands awkwardly with his scarred torso visible. All those scars had an untold story and Conan had, in that moment (and even now), wanted to hear them all, to run his hands over all the lumps and crevices on the man's skin, to memorise the feel of it, the feel of Gavin’s skin against his. But he knew better than to ask about them, and he definitely knew better than to touch. Gavin had already been so uncomfortable with him being around, and Conan found that that saddened him more than he wanted to admit.

But damn, it was a good sight to see Gavin so vulnerable. Conan had felt a little conflicted however, because as much as he enjoyed seeing Gavin that way he had also wanted to hug him like an overgrown teddy bear; reassure him that he was safe, that his past couldn’t hurt him. Conan had felt an emotion in him that he was certain he hadn’t felt as a deviant yet. How many emotions did humans have? 

_Too many._

Conan looked around, a reassurance to himself that he was alone, and let his shoulders slouch, rubbing his right temple. He had to stay professional in front of the others, he couldn’t let his inner emotions interfere with work. He was not the kind of man who would let emotions drive his decisions, he had been so close to cracking this morning, something about Gavin seemed to have that effect on people. He was finding it hard to think about the case now and that annoyed him because it was pretty damn important.

He straightened himself again and adjusted his jacket cuffs with the full intention of going back to his desk and analysing the new information revealed during the interrogation. However, he found that he was interrupted by the sound of pounding footsteps coming down stairs behind him and he turned quickly to see what was going on.

Gavin was standing there, breathing hard as he stood, his stance wide, starting at him. Conan nearly questioned as to why he had come here but decided to let Gavin speak first.

They stood staring at each other for a solid minute or two before Gavin spoke.

“I need to speak to you.”

Conan blinked in surprise and held back a sarcastic remark, instead decided it would be better to let Gavin continue.

Gavin ran his hands through his hair and began pacing, “I know I’ve been acting so fucking difficult for the past few days. You were only trying to help and I acted like a fucking piece of shit. Yeah okay, I have been angrier recently because of the whole smoking thing, but that doesn’t give me the right to be an ass.”

“Detec- Gavin,” Conan corrected, “it’s alright, I understand.”

Gavin threw his hands up, “No! No you don’t get it! Look Conan, when you’re around I can never decide if I want to punch you or...” he choked a little on his words and Conan felt a little disappointed that he hadn’t continued his train of thought. Gavin breathed out. “Look, what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry.”

Conan felt his brows rise, he never expected to hear those two words from Gavin of all people. The man looked relieved to have said it, his shoulders slouched and he let out a breath, like it was a heavy weight off of his chest. He laced his hands behind his neck and looked up to the ceiling.

Conan thought the sight was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen, but he wouldn’t tell Gavin that. They stood in the evidence room in silence, the air became heavy around them and Gavin turned his head to Conan, making eye contact. The feeling that Conan had in his chest grew stronger with Gavin’s eyes on him and he took note of Gavin’s increasing heart rate as they stared at each other. There was something in the way Gavin looked at him, it was the same way he had looked at him when he had come to pick him up from the bullpen yesterday. A hunger, but he could see Gavin was fighting it. Conan felt the intense urge to just go over there and force Gavin to give into it, but restrained himself.

“Like I said before, I understand.” Conan said, breaking the intimate moment, “and if it makes you feel any better, I want to help you stop smoking. I believe I may have some ideas in mind if you would allow me to assist you.”

Gavin gave an awkward laugh and his face reddened. “Uh, yeah. thanks. I need all the help I can get.” He cleared his throat and smiled at Conan, making his way over to him. They stood facing each other and Conan took the time to study Gavin’s eyes, they were a cool grey, like a dark clouded sky. Conan didn’t want to look away from them, and he could see Gavin having an inner conflict as he stared back.

Gavin spoke at last, turning away from him, his voice low.

“I just need to find something else to get addicted to I guess.”

Conan didn’t know why those words hit him the way they did. The tone too was oddly suggestive but also... scared? Uncertain?

Gavin began walking away and Conan followed suit. As they walked, so close their shoulders nearly touching, he added.

“20 centimetres.”

Gavin just shot him a weird look and shrugged.

“You know I was going to ask you about that, but now I don’t think I want to know.”

Conan gave him a smirk, “I’ll tell you later. But for now, I’ve got some very interesting things to tell you about the case.”

Gavin perked up a little at that “let’s get fucking to it then.”

 


End file.
